


LARPing Through Life

by bookworm1805



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dean/Benny being bros, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 11:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm1805/pseuds/bookworm1805
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh, don’t you?” Benny teases. “I guess I was imagining you flashin’ Bambi eyes at that new kid then?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	LARPing Through Life

“Hey man, we still on for my place after practice?”

There’s a rush of students in the hallway, bursting out of classrooms loudly in celebration of being one class away from a three-day weekend.

Dean’s leaning against a row of lockers, mentally planning out his weekend. TNT is having an all-day marathon of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy (extended edition, TNT doesn’t do anything halfway) on Sunday. He needs to pick Sammy up from a friend’s house that morning but he can probably make it back for the Two Towers, if not the last half of Fellowship.

Maybe he can even rope Sam into watching with him. They’re probably past the age where Dean can knock Sammy off his feet and run around the living room with his little brother thrown over his shoulder cackling while on-screen Sam says “But I can carry you!” and carries Frodo up the slopes of Mount Doom. Sammy’s growing into a moose, and even if Dean could carry him he doesn’t think his brother would find it nearly as thrilling as he used to.

“Dean? You in there brotha?” A locker closes in front of his face and draws Dean out of his head. Benny cocks an eyebrow at him.

“What? Yeah,” he says dumbly. There’s a pause. “No. Wait. What’d you say?”

His friend throws his head back and laughs. “Man, you been out of sorts for days. Don’t think I don’t know why, either. You ain’t foolin’ anyone,” he drawls. 

Benny Lafitte sort of sticks out like a sore thumb in bumfuck Kansas, all smooth Louisiana drawl donned with an old sailor cap he insists on wearing everywhere that looks like it’s seen better days, hell,  _decades_. Most students don’t quite know what to make of him.

If Dean had to categorize him, he’d probably file Benny under “jock”, what with him being the school’s star football player, but his personality contradicts every archetypal stereotype in the book. Half the guys in the school are afraid of him and the rest love him to death. He’s built like a brawler but at heart he’s a hugger, and he’s got blue eyes that will charm the pants off the grumpiest SOB if you look too long, but even then he’s got a mean streak that comes out if you mess with the people he loves.

He’s like a cuddly teddy bear you only realize has fangs when you get a closer look, but he still won’t bite unless you insult his momma.

Besides, he hangs out with the likes of Dean. Being best friends with Dean Winchester precludes the possibility of Benny being ordinary in any sense of the word.

Dean shifts his backpack strap and scoffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t you?” Benny teases. “I guess I was imagining you flashin’ Bambi eyes at that new kid then?”

Dean flushes. He knows he looks like a dork when he blushes, cheeks going all ruddy and freckles standing out like beacons. It’s embarrassing as hell. But It’s true, the new kid is standing in Dean’s line of vision - perhaps even directly so, but Dean wasn’t staring. He was thinking about Lord of the Rings, and Aragorn all sweaty and—yeah. Honestly.

He clears his throat. “Nope, don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbles. “C’mon, time for bio.”

He hears Benny’s laughter echo through the hall behind him as he strides forward and scowls when he feels an arm sling around his shoulders. 

“Aw, don’t be like that, Dean,” Benny says. Dean’s scowl deepens. “Alright, alright,” his friend relents. “You’re lucky I’m all soft and cuddly on the inside. A lesser man would give you way more shit.”

That much is true. Dean is infinitely worse than this when Sammy has a crush.

Not that Dean has a crush. That’s not. No.

Shit.

~*~*~*

“Damn,” Benny exclaims when the last bell rings. “Your boy is somethin’ else.”

Dean idly packs up his bag, attention stuck on the boy two lab tables away. The kid isn’t doing anything really interesting, just twirling a pencil in his left hand while he looks over his notebook, but Dean is transfixed on the motion of his fingers, long and delicate. His hair is sticking out in black shocks, ruffled and soft-looking. The pencil stops moving suddenly, then the kid shoves it behind his ear so it’s jutting out of his hair rather comically. 

“Not my boy,” Dean grumbles, still staring, but it’s true, he really is something else. Dean may have spent more time studying his not-crush than he did the lesson on mitosis, but it’s not his fault, honestly. Dean didn’t ask for the new kid to be so interesting. The guy spends most of class every day drawing in his notebook, but every time Mrs. Mills asks him a question he looks up at her serenely and gets it perfectly correct. 

And he chews on the end of his pencil a lot, and his lips are very pink and every so often he licks his lips and it’s…distracting.

Not-crushes suck.

Benny chuckles. “C’mon, Dean,” he prods. “Head outta the clouds.” Dean blinks, looks around. The classroom is mostly empty now. Sometimes students stick around to finish up homework or ask questions, but today’s Friday so everyone is predictably in a rush to start the weekend.

Wow, embarrassing. He really got lost in his head.

He’s been caught, so now he’s awkwardly flushing again, great. Charlie says he’s cute when he blushes, freckles lighting up like fireflies.

Dean disagrees.

He looks back at the boy and oh, and he’s looking over this way too and Dean’s still blushing and staring at him and  _god just do something, Winchester._

“H-Hey Cas,” he stands up clumsily, ignoring Benny and walking over to the other boy. “Er. Castiel,” he corrects belatedly, realizing he’s never really spoken to the guy before and doesn’t know if it’s okay to call him a nickname.

Castiel tilts his head at him. “Hello Dean,” he greets in a voice that sounds like churning gravel. Dean suppresses a shiver. “Did you enjoy today’s lecture on cell division?”

Dean blinks. “Uh, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. Castiel is looking at him unblinkingly, fingers toying with the hem of his Easter-egg-patterned sweater. “Yeah it was awesome. Actually I had a question for you. Not related to mitosis. Um, you’re in Latin 3 right?”

Castiel nods, his gaze intent and hyper-focused on Dean. It feels like Castiel is trying to take an x-ray of his brain and it’s simultaneously uncomfortable and exhilarating.

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, well my little brother just started here and he’s having a little trouble in his Intro to Latin class. Do you think you could tutor him sometime? We’ll pay you of course, just,” Dean knows he’s babbling but hey, they don’t call him socially awkward for nothing. “I’d really appreciate it. Well. He would too, of course. Because he’s the one who needs…yeah.”

There’s something amused in the tiny smile Castiel gives him, but also something…pleased? It’s hard to get a read on him. “Dean, I can’t accept your money, but I would be happy to help Sam.”

He never said Sam’s name, but the fact that Castiel knew it anyway makes Dean’s heart stutter a little. In a really platonic non-crush-like kind of way. “Really?” He smiles like an idiot. “Thanks, Cas.”

There’s a 60/40 chance Dean is imagining the way Castiel’s eyes light up at the nickname. Dean doesn’t really trust himself right now to see things clearly.

“Okay, so, does this weekend work for you? Sammy’s free Sunday afternoon and all day Monday.”

“I believe Sunday works for me. There was a program I had planned on viewing but I can watch it another time.”

Dean cringes. “You don’t have to do that man, you can just come over some other day—”

Castiel interrupts him. “Truly Dean, I don’t mind,” he says firmly. His next words are quieter, more hesitant. “Are you familiar with the Lord of the Rings trilogy?”

It’s a near thing, but Dean barely holds himself back from nerdgasming and leaping onto Castiel’s lap. “Y-yeah,” he splutters. “Is that—? I was gonna watch that too.”

When Castiel smiles, really smiles, it feels like the ground is shifting under Dean’s feet and everything is too bright for a second. Then he realizes he’s just literally getting weak in the knees and leans on the table beside him for support.

“I don’t own the movies, so I like to watch them whenever I can,” Castiel says. He pauses, looks down at his fidgeting fingers, still pulling at his sweater, then back up at Dean. “Maybe we could watch it together,” Cas offers shyly, some of his composure slipping out of place as he looks at Dean through his eyelashes.

Dean’s heart is racing because fuck, god help him but there was never really any pretending that he’s not crushing on Cas something awful. Nobody believed him anyway, and now his body feels like it’s on fire in a really awesome way. “Yeah!” Dean stammers. “Yeah, I’d really like that. Maybe you can help Sam out another day.” He stands there as they smile at each other for a minute, jumping when he hears a chair being pushed in somewhere behind him. 

That’s probably Benny’s way of saying  _You’re being a fanboy, Winchester, pull it together_.

A quick look around shows the classroom is truly empty except for the three of them now. Even Mrs. Mills has left. He looks back at Castiel. “Okay,” he says with barely contained enthusiasm. “Sunday. I’ll text you my address.” He turns to walk away, already breathing a deep sigh of relief when he hears a quiet chuckle behind him.

“Dean.”

He turns back around. Cas is still sitting there, smiling softly. “Don’t you need my number to text me?”

Heat rises to his face and he coughs, embarrassed. He hears Benny’s poorly concealed snickering and squeezes his eyes shut for a second.  _Fuck my life._  He opens them again and walks back to Castiel. “Right.” He takes out his phone and opens up his contacts list. “Here, just program your number in,” he mutters, looking at the text book still open on Castiel’s desk.

He jolts when the boy presses the phone back into his palm a few seconds later, eyes skipping over to meet the blue ones staring back at him. “It’s a date,” Castiel says. Dean turns pink and blinks and his jaw falls open a little, but Cas just smiles serenely. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Y-Yeah, you—you, yeah,” Dean stutters as he stumbles backwards. He’s incredibly flustered, banging into abandoned stools as he fumbles his way back to his backpack and he’s not sure how to process everything so he just blusters around some more on his way out the door, Benny cackling beside him.

*~*~*

Four minutes later and Dean’s still dazed, mindful only of the fact that  _Cas is coming over Sunday_  and  _I finally spoke to him_ and  ** _he likes Tolkien_**. Benny is guiding him through the hallway with a hand on his back and a smirk on his face.

Dean finally comes back to himself when he realizes they’re stopped at his locker. “Don’t know what I’m talkin’ about my ass,” Benny crows. “Two whole months you’ve been moonin’ over that crazy aunt and what, this is the first time you talked to him?”

“No!” Dean huffs indignantly. “We talked in English a couple times.” Benny inclines his head doubtfully. “Okay so  _he_  talked to me. I didn’t really know what to say back.” His friend starts laughing and Dean scowls and shoves his chemistry book into his locker. “Seriously, man! I can’t get a read on him! He’s like half-Vulcan.”

This just makes Benny laugh harder, and Dean rolls his eyes as he slams his locker shut. “Yeah yeah, Dean’s a geek,” he grumbles. 

Benny’s guffaws decline gradually into giggles. Seriously, he’s such a freakin’ teddy bear. He claps Dean on the back. “You know I wouldn’t have you any other way, friend. Besides, you scored yourself a date. Seemed pretty clear to me he likes you  _juuust fiiiine_ ,” he teases, drawing out the last two words with a wicked grin.

“Shut up.” Dean bites his lip on a grin and tries not to look as giddy as he feels. He shoves his friend jokingly, but a little on the rough side. Fucker deserves it. “Go to practice, man. I’ll see you afterwards. Pizza and video game night, right?”

Benny elbows him back. “Hell yeah, brotha. And you go on to your—what’d you call it again? Live action what now?”

“ _Role-playing_ , man. Live action role playing.” Dean shakes his head. He’s gotta go or he’ll be late and Charlie will have his head, possibly  _literally_  depending on what they do today. “See ya!” he calls as they head in different directions.

He stops outside room 301 (the LARPers on-campus headquarters) and thumbs through his phone. He sees his added contact.

It’s filed under  _C-a-s_ , Cas.

A flush rises to his cheeks again, but this time Dean doesn’t care. His smile is practically breaking off his face, and Charlie gives him a funny look when he steps inside. It must be written all over his stupid grin what happened though, or at least who it concerned, because soon she’s strolling over to him and winking. “Glad you finally made a move, tiger,” she congratulates before sitting down next to her girlfriend.

Dean just stands there in a stupor for a minute, letting it sink in.

Cas is coming over to his house Sunday. Dean has his  _number_. Cas said “It’s a date”. Cas likes Lord of the Rings, and he wants to watch it with Dean.

_All of them. Extended editions._

With any luck Cas won’t even tease him when he quotes Theoden’s speech before the Battle of Pelennor Fields or gets teary-eyed when Pippin sings  _Edge of Night_ (shut up, Dean’s deep okay?).

Hell, he might even bust out his blu-ray box set for this. Screw TNT. 

Dean’s got a  _date_.

**Author's Note:**

> not beta-ed so let me know if there are any errors, inspired by Dean and Benny's epic friendship in 8x19 (I'm still crying don't look at me)


End file.
